I announced my cancer with the blog “Singing in the Rain”. I had no idea what a continuing song Rain would play in my cancer story. When I discovered Klinik Marinus am Stein, I imagined one of the perks of coming here would be painting sessions among the edelweiss with cowbells ringing in my ears. Bavaria in June, you know; the hills alive with the sound of music? Fact is, this May has been the worst Bavarian May weather in 55 years. Like much of Europe right now, it has been under huge torrents for days and days. Hence, I’ve walked to and from the clinic every day, so far, in a raincoat with an umbrella over my head. Tomorrow holds no better promise. But Sunday should be a sunny-day.
Lying on tables every morning on magnetic field mats, hearing the drizzle outside the window while getting ozone blood transfusions and major selenium and vitamins C drips, like walking in the rain, give one more time than usual to think. Both experiences have made me realize how rich a life I live. Inspiring teachers, supportive family, friends and clients who each in their own way have played an integral part in making this healing trip a possibility.
Being here just a couple days has given me opportunity to hear other cancer patients’ stories from around the world, which make me almost feel like a charlatan. Though my PSA and Gleason scores were high, I got here before my diseased cells had time to even form a proper tumor. Most of my colleagues are here because their allopathic hospitals and doctors had nothing to offer them but palliative care. Here their huge tumors are shrinking and their numbers are dropping: not miraculous, but helpful. With Christmas anticipation, I look forward to my reports in a few short days, after a lot more pokes and prods.
Rich man that I am, my heart continues to sing a song of overwhelming gratitude for every moment of life, in and out of the rain.